Near the pianoforte, Jane turned another page for Mary, her serene expression firmly in place, though Elizabeth knew she was not as untroubled by the argument as she pretended. Mary’s playing continued, steady and deliberate.
She nodded to Charlotte, and they both rose to join the younger girls.
“Miss Lydia,” Miss Darcy was saying, her tone polite but curious, “you are very fortunate. Longbourn is such a lively place.”
“Oh, itislively,” Lydia replied, laughing. “Mostly because of me.”
“And Kitty,” Maria added loyally.
“Oh, Kitty is not half as diverting as I am,” Lydia declared.
“Yes I am!” Kitty replied with irritation.
Lydia laughed dismissively. “You are not, Kitty. You are always following me about, hoping to borrow my ribbons or my ideas.”
Kitty’s cheeks flushed pink, and she sat up straighter. “That is not true, Lydia! You are the one who borrows from me, and I am perfectly capable of high spirits without you.”
“Oh?” Lydia arched a brow, her tone both teasing and challenging. “Name one adventure you had without me.”
“I do not need to prove myself to you, Lydia,” Kitty said, her voice high and reedy. “Maria, I am diverting, am I not?”
Maria looked nervously between the two sisters, clearly wishing to avoid taking sides. “I think you are both diverting, in your own ways.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “That is just Maria being polite. Kitty, you are only pleasant when you are not sulking, and right now, you are sulking.”
“I am not sulking!” Kitty shot back, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her frustration.
Elizabeth, who had been listening with growing exasperation, finally spoke. “Lydia.”
Her tone was calm but firm, carrying a warning that silenced the younger girl mid-sentence. Lydia huffed, crossing her arms, but did not argue.
“As you can see, lively also means sisterly disagreements,” Elizabeth said to Miss Darcy with a smile. The girl smiled uncertainly in response.
After a moment of injured silence, Lydia sighed dramatically and turned back to Miss Darcy, her tone far too casual. “Your gown is very fine. Is it from London? I suppose it must be, though it is a shame you do not have a sister to share all your pretty things with.”
Miss Darcy’s composure was returning. “Thank you, Miss Lydia. It is from London, and you are right. Having a sister would be a great comfort, though I think I would prefer to keep my gowns to myself.”
The remark, delivered with perfect poise, caused Elizabeth to stifle a smile. Even Lydia seemed momentarily taken aback before letting out a laugh.
“Well, you would get along with Mary, then,” Lydia said, waving a hand towards her other sister. “She never shares anything.”
“I see great wisdom in that approach,” Miss Darcy said mildly, which encouraged a ripple of quiet laughter through their entire group.
Elizabeth caught Miss Darcy’s eye and nodded ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the young lady’s skill in diffusing the tension. For all her apparent reticence, she was proving herself to be far more capable than Elizabeth had initially assumed. Miss Darcy was like her brother, Elizabeth realized with a shock. Just softer.
“Miss Bennet has such a kind expression,” Georgiana continued. “She favours Mrs. Bennet, does she not?”
Lydia laughed outright, causing Kitty to elbow her. “Oh, Mamma is not Jane’s mother, or Lizzy’s either. She is their Mamma.”
Georgiana blinked, her confusion evident. “I do not understand.”
Kitty glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded. It was no secret. “Papa was married before, to a widow who already had Jane and Lizzy. Mamma is their Mamma, though, and always has been. That is why Lydia says so.”
“Oh, it does not matter,” Lydia interjected, waving her hand dismissively. “Jane and Lizzy are our sisters, and as annoying as they are, I would much rather have them as the eldest than Mary.”
Mary, still playing, lifted her chin and said, “Annoying I may be, Lydia, but at least I can play the pianoforte with more skill than enthusiasm.”
Lydia rolled her eyes but seemed unbothered. “That is not saying much, Mary.”
